Harry's mind was reeling. Why did all these things have to happen to him? What had he done to deserve this? He barely noticed as his feet took him across Mongolia crescent, where he realized with a jolt that this was where he had first seen Sirius. He forced himself to look away and go to the park. He sat absentmindedly on the swing and barely noticed the strange looks he was getting. He probably did look like the hardened criminal the Dursleys made him out to be; unshaved, dark eye bags and unbrushed longish hair.

Harry's mind wandered to his two best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He wondered what they were doing now. Ron had promised that he would invite Harry to stay, but Harry didn't want the company of people right now. The Weasleys were his favourite wizarding family but he didn't want them fussing over him, he wasn't sure he was ready to tell anyone about the prophecy or face Sirius' death yet. The sun had started to go down and Harry realized that he should be getting back. Reluctantly he picked himself up and trudged slowly back to number four Privet Drive. Letting himself in, he heard two voices from the kitchen.
'…don't know what's up with him,' he heard his aunt's voice.
'Ah well, the less we see of him the better,'
'Yeah I suppose you're right, but he hasn't eaten or showered, you hear him screaming in his sleep.'
'Yeah bloody idiot, keeping us awake, and that ruddy owl of his…' muttered uncle Vernon
Harry had heard enough; he made his way up to his room as quickly and quietly as possible. He sat on his bed. He longed not to think, he tried not to think, he tried to clear his mind, eventually he fell asleep.

Harry awoke early the next morning; he glanced at his bedside clock, 5.35. He groaned as he remembered who was coming today. He lay still for a while trying to fall asleep again. His stomach rumbled and he realized with a pang that he was starving. He pulled himself off the bed and made his way down to the kitchen. He grabbed a piece of toast and lightly buttered it, then retreated to his room.

The Dursleys eventually woke at 9.30. Vernon announced that he would be going to pick up Aunt Marge from the station in an hour and a half after he had eaten his breakfast, then barged into Harry's bedroom.
'I want NO funny business when Marge is here, I remember what happened the last time and you are going to make sure you behave yourself, do you understand?'
Harry contemplated for a moment, did he understand?
'I am NOT taking anymore from that woman about my parents, if she behaves then I will,' he scowled, then added in a dangerously low voice, 'You wouldn't want me to let slip what my parents were, would you?' Harry completed the effect with a twisted smile.
Uncle Vernon positively jumped back in shock, his face purple, 'You'll do no such thing.'
'You wanna bet,' Harry replied, raising his eyebrows.
Uncle Vernon turned and stormed out of the room. Harry laughed out loud at his uncles facial expression, it was a mixture of anger and fear.

Two hours later, Harry heard the sound of the car backing into the driveway. Knowing that he would have to carry the suitcases, he dragged himself off the bed and down the stairs. As he reached the bottom stair his aunt cornered him, 'you will behave during lunch and dinner, do you understand? And yes you do have to come down,' she added as Harry opened his mouth to speak. He gaped at her, since when did she make sure he came down? He shrugged off the thought and turned to open the door as the doorbell rang.
Aunt Marge barged in throwing her luggage straight at Harry, knocking him off his feet. He cursed and got up, carrying the luggage, determined to take as long as possible.

Harry lurked by the dining room door, trying to postpone the inevitable. Just then Aunt Petunia same out the kitchen and handed Harry the roast, to put on the table.

He went in only to find Uncle Vernon, Aunt Marge and Dudley sitting around the table.
'So…' hisses Aunt Marge leering at him.
'So what?
'I see you are still here.'
'Unfortunately, luck has never been on my side,' said Harry, remembering the time three years ago, when Sirius had offered him a home.
'HOW DARE YOU TALK LIKE THAT, YOU ARE GODDAMN LUCKY VERNON AND PETUNIA TOOK YOU IN, YOU ARE FILTH, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN SENT STRAIGHT TO THE ORPHANGE OR TO THAT FILTHY ESCAPED CONVICT GODFATHER OF YOURS.'
This was too much for Harry, he whipped out his wand and held it straight to Aunt Marge's throat, 'DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT'
'Or what you will stick your stick through my throat,' she sneered
'No, I can do much worse than that.' Harry replied with his eyes narrowed.
'BOY UP TO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW.'
'Yes, uncle Vernon, I'll just go to finish my letter to mad-eye, you remember him don't you?'

Harry went upstairs, he seethed with anger, suddenly his scar burst open in pain. He screamed clutching his scar and dropped to his knees, his eyes were watering. Eventually the pain subsided and he heard someone saying his name, he looked up and found himself staring into a pair of grey eyes.'
'Wotcher Harry.'

Ooooo… I wonder who it is? Any guesses. Should be easy but yaknow